


white white leaves (of an oleander)

by meshizuru



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Enemies to Lovers, Insecurity, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meshizuru/pseuds/meshizuru
Summary: To want to be more than you are, to yearn for a place high above your own, despite knowing you would never get it. He had felt like that for years. He was talentless, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Luck was never a talent to him, not until Hope’s Peak had coveted it. It was less conventional, and had done nothing for him previously. Nothing. As much as he could bask in the rainbows after the ravaging hurricanes, a rainbow didn’t repair broken houses, didn’t restore lost lives, and didn’t clean up the mess the hurricane had left.It never did. Not even a little. It just slapped an empty wish of "get well soon" on top and left him to pick up the pieces on his own.Hinata didn’t understand how good he had it. To have nothing to worry about, other than ordinary, boring things; to not live in a constant spotlight, and to not live under the mark of misfortune he never even asked for.And yet he envied Komaeda. And Komaeda envied him right back.—Exploring what could have been between Komaeda and Hinata during their school years.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Nanami Chiaki, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito & Nanami Chiaki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	white white leaves (of an oleander)

**Author's Note:**

> In this first chapter, the perspective swaps around from Hinata, Komaeda, and Nanami a lot. Breaks are between each POV shift, so it doesn't seem jarring.
> 
> After this chapter, the perspective won't swap around as much, and will focus on Komaeda/Hinata. This is a lengthy beginning to open up what I want to hopefully be a chapterfic. But, I'm not too good at writing chapterfic, so it may seem a little disjointed and stuff, and updates might take a while. Sorry about that.

Nanami cared about everyone of her classmates; it didn’t matter what they were like, what they did, or who they could be, she had grown to care about them all deeply. Yukizome had opened her eyes to this, tapping gently on the shell she didn’t even realize she was encased in, and carefully getting her to step out. She hadn’t had many friends before, so the idea of trying to befriend all her classmates was daunting, but she had opened up to it slowly, and eventually found herself becoming class representative.

She’d never been happier.

Schoolwork was basically useless for the main course, but she still liked to busy herself with it from time to time. Homeroom usually devolved into fun antics rather than actual work, and Yukizome didn’t seem to mind this. She usually joined in, rather than not, but would get strict the next day about getting _something_ done (usually, because she was worried the Headmaster would be on her back soon).

Nanami didn’t mind either way. Usually, she would work with another student when they _did_ work, but otherwise, she got to play games with her classmates—her _friends_.

Her classmates weren’t her only friends, though. There was still the reserve course boy she’d met by chance in the courtyard. Hinata. She liked meeting him for games still, and even helped him with some of his work. She learned very quickly that the reserve course didn’t do classes like hers did, and that it was all work, lots of it, and no play. It made her a little sad, which is why she started helping him study frequently, and then helped him cool off from all the stress with games. 

Hinata was easy to get along with. She didn’t fully understand him, and didn’t pry at first, but after a while he’d opened up to her some more and Nanami felt like she was starting to understand him. He’d expressed his worries about befriending an Ultimate on multiple occasions, and Nanami had pouted at him each time and told him to be quiet, pinching his cheek with a soft sting to make her words carry some weight. 

She didn’t like when people made themselves feel worthless, especially because of things like talent. She didn’t like hearing people, especially her friends, put themselves down for things that didn’t really matter—at least, she didn’t think they did. There was more to life than talent, and she wanted people to understand that like she did.

That brought her to another friend of hers.

Komaeda. Out of all her classmates, she found it most difficult to get close to him. He participated in group settings, laughing and smiling, but when class ended she never saw him. Sometimes, she’d spot him in the campus library, but it was rarely with other people present. Other times, out in the courtyard, sitting around alone in a secluded spot, behind all the hedges where no one could see him.

She realized she didn’t know anything about him, and she wanted to remedy that—because, could she even consider him a friend if she didn’t? But, the first time she invited him to hang out alone, just the two of them after class, he denied her, brushing off the request with a simple “I have something to do, sorry,” and leaving almost hurriedly. 

One thing she knew about Komaeda was his admiration for hope and talent, almost an obsession. And in tandem with that obsession, came his self-deprecation; he considered himself worthless, beneath the others, and often pushed himself away for that reason. He tried to minimize his presence everywhere he went, trying to refrain from making a mark on anyone’s lives, because he didn’t think himself worthy of doing so.

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

It was difficult to find out a way to get to him, though. But she had thought of a plan pretty easily.

  
  


“Komaeda-kun,” Nanami stood by the door, knowing he always tried to leave first, slipping out the doorway before anyone could stop him. The bell had rung, he had grabbed his things, ready to go. 

He stopped in his tracks, and tilted his head. “Nanami-san? Is there something you need?”

“Um,” she paused. “Yeah.”

“...Okay? What is it?”

Nanami arched her finger, beckoning him down. Komaeda bent at the waist to reach her height, and she leaned up on her tip-toes, cupping a hand by her mouth and whispering into his ear.

“Yukizome-sensei wants us to get something for her...for tomorrow…it’s a surprise, so only we can do it.”

Komaeda pulled back, eyes wide with surprise, before he broke into a soft laugh. “Okay! What is it?”

“...Follow me,” Nanami reached out, taking his wrist and dragging him out of the classroom.

After tricking Komaeda into being alone with her, she brought him out to town for ice cream. She claimed it was because Yukizome wanted an ice cream cake, because they were going to throw a party in class tomorrow, but that was a lie. While at the shop, she suggested they get something to eat (to which, Komaeda gently stated he didn’t like sweet things all that much, and Nanami said he should try something matcha-flavored instead, and he did—to her delight, he had enjoyed it quite a lot) and then ordered a cake to-go. It had been easy to smooth things over with Yukizome, and as if it had been the plan the entire time, they had something resembling a party in class the next day. 

This repeated a few times. Errands that didn’t really need to be run became ways for her to hang out with him. After her third friend-date with him, she thought she was in the clear, and had been planning to ask him yet again. This time, the errand was that, for some reason, Yukizome wanted her to visit the arcade with another student (this was by far her least thought out plan, and that was mostly because she wanted to play games with Komaeda really, really badly).

The routine went as usual. Nanami watched the clock slowly tick until class was about to end, and as soon as it rang, she shot up, grabbing her backpack and shuffling over by the doorway. Komaeda was just behind her, his bag in hand, looking at her expectantly. She didn’t catch that bit.

“Komaeda-kun-”

“Oh? Do you have a new errand, Nanami-san?”

“...Yea. Yukizome-sensei wants us to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade,” he repeated, tilted his head. A smile flitted onto his lips, slightly smug. “What for?”

“...” Nanami tugged at her backpack’s straps, rocking on her feet. “Mmhm. It’s um, because…well...”

“Nanami-san,” he stopped her, holding a hand up. “If you want me to accompany you to the arcade...for personal reasons, for whatever reason, then please ask. I don’t imagine the Ultimate Gamer needs my luck on her side, so it would really be more trouble than it’s worth, but I will do so anyways if that’s _really_ what you want.”

“...Komaeda-kun,” Nanami pouted, balling her hands into fists, and with a burst of confidence, she suddenly shouted. Her voice was still incredibly soft when she yelled. “No, no! That’s not it! I w-want to hang out with you! I think it would be really fun...I wanna know if your luck can beat my skill…and I wanna spend time with you…because you’re my friend.”

Komaeda’s brows drew in a slant, but he still smiled through the nervousness. “...Oh, I’m sorry Nanami-san,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you think I was a burden you needed to care for. A _friend_. It’s better you don’t worry yourself with that, because I’m really more trouble than I could ever be worth.”

She puffed her cheeks out in a pout, and gently, hit her hand against his chest, prodding her pointer finger into it. He flinched.

“No, that’s _wrong_ ,” she huffed, her pout very stern, yet adorable—still, he felt admonished. “You’re my classmate...and my friend. So I care about you because I want to, not because I need to. And you’re definitely worth it.”

“...I see,” he paused, his brows furrowing. His lips pursed into a frown, and he looked off to the side blankly, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

“It’s not good to be alone,” she said softly. “I know, because...before Yukizome-sensei got me to open up, I was really lonely. But I’ve been really happy since I started hanging out with everyone. Even you.”

Komaeda bit his lip wordlessly, still looking away from her, anywhere but her.

“So please—”

“...It’s dangerous to be my friend, Nanami-san,” he said, finally, cutting her off. His eyes didn’t meet hers, still. “I would advise against it.”

That made her frown sincerely, and she sighed. She felt like she might need to give up, but...she didn’t like giving up. That wasn’t how you beat the final boss. And _this_ , this was the final boss of getting to Komaeda. It was the final level, and she just needed to get past it, and then she’d have another friend!

“...Can we hang out as classmates, at least?”

“Why would you want to do that? It’s still dangerous to even be around me. I attract danger, you know.”

“‘Cause,” she mumbled, looking at her feet, almost bashful and ashamed. “It’s better to do things with people...than to do it alone. And if we’re not friends, then...nothing bad will happen to me, I think. Your luck wouldn’t let that happen, probably.”

"That's not–" Komaeda’s mouth went agape as he glanced over at her, stunned into silence for a beat or two, before he uttered: “...Okay.”

She blinked, and looked up at him in shock. “Okay? Um, does that mean you’ll go with me?”

Komaeda’s teeth grazed his lower lip, pulling at it nervously, before he sighed, and put on a gentle smile. He nodded.

With a silent cheer and stars in her eyes, Nanami immediately lit up like she hadn’t been drooping her head in sadness just a mere second ago, bouncing on her feet in place. “Let’s go!” Her breath quickened in excitement, and she took Komaeda’s hand tightly, dragging him along.

———

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the arcade. It took a while to find a game that Komaeda enjoyed (after finding out how easily they both got tired when she challenged him to a game of _Dance Dance Revolution_ , she decided it would be best to participate in less physical games, for both their sakes), but she found that games based in luck he seemed to enjoy, at first at least. But then he got bored of winning over and over, and asked her to challenge him to some skills-based ones. Oddly enough, he seemed to enjoy her beating him more than he did winning luck games, praising her with admiration in his voice, droning on about the utter hope her talent brings him when he loses to it.

(It was a bit weird...but almost flattering? She didn't really know what to make of it…)

After that, though, they spent time playing other games just for fun, like skee ball, or the hoops game. She even brought him to a roller coaster simulator, the type you sit in and it jostles you around while the screen makes it look like you’re on some cartoonish, horror coaster. It...didn’t go well, and she ended up buying him some cotton candy to try and patch up that mistake, noticing he visibly got upset and tense after that (also, to make a remark about how it looked like his hair). She took a mental note of it, for the future. No scary stuff.

And, considering Komaeda got the jackpot first try on _Monster Drop_ , and the machine proceeded to break and spit out all the tickets, even though it wasn’t supposed to give him the _entire_ roll—they racked up a lot of tickets. A _lot_. More than they knew what to do with, and enough that the worker at the counter looked at the jumble of tickets with exasperation and dread, as they realized they had to count all of them, silently cursing that the arcade didn’t have one of those ticket munchers. 

(Komaeda had been quite apologetic about it, and helped them count it, while Nanami was excitedly pointing out what prizes they could get. They left with a stuffed animal bigger than both of them, carrying it all the way back to campus, and several jelly bracelets and cute hair clips snapped into their hair. Leftover tickets, obviously.)

———

It started to go easier after that. So long as Nanami didn’t use any strong words, she was able to ease her way into his life. As a classmate, nothing more, though she was considering him a friend every step of the way. Eventually, he got quite close to her. And opened up. And finally, Nanami started to understand him.

She didn’t agree with him on everything, especially not his views on hope and talent. Even now, she didn’t fully get it...but she knew that hope meant a lot to him. And when she found out how rough his life had been, it made sense why it did. And it made sense why he didn’t like roller coasters, or taking the train places; why he didn’t like making friends, why he was always alone everywhere he went, why he insisted that no one get too close.

Nanami had always seen talent as being something that traps you, sort of. It trapped her. She had games, but she couldn’t do anything else, really. It was what she was saddled with, and it’s not like that made her mad. She loved games, but it sometimes sucked knowing that it was all she could be valued for. Yukizome had gotten her out of that, making her feel like she could be anything she wanted to, and well, she still wanted to be a gamer.

But she never thought a lot about Luck. And Luck...actually trapped you. It trapped Komaeda, everyday of his life; every day was spent worrying about what might come next, waiting for it with paralyzing fear, and trying to take matters into his own hands to prevent surprise, but to no avail. Everything was taken from him. Luck defined his life, he couldn’t escape his talent, genuinely. It was bigger than him, bigger than any of them. 

But she decided she didn’t care about any of that. And had proudly declared that to him one night. She’d invited him over to her dorm for the night, and as she got sleepier and sleepier, it threatened to become a sleepover.

“I like being your friend, Komaeda-kun,” she said, voice soft and mumbly. “I don’t think anything bad will happen to me. But if it did, it’d be okay. Because it’s worth it to be your friend.”

And she’d dozed off, just like that, her head perched on his shoulder and slumped up against him. It was a good thing she was a heavy sleeper, because Komaeda had proceeded to tremble and shake from an anxiety that ate him up from within, and rode that out until he could carefully withdraw, laying her down on her bed and leaving quietly.

———

She hadn’t heard from him for a few days after that. He’d even missed class. But he returned after three days, with his arm in a cast. “An accident,” he’d said, and proceeded to explain how he’d gone south to his hometown in Kyoto for a few days, for reasons unstated, and while there, ended up falling into a pothole and breaking his arm.

Nanami wasn’t sure, but if she had to guess, it was probably to avoid anyone else getting caught in the bad luck he anticipated coming. He’d been running away.

She’d hugged him tightly, mindful of his arm, and told him she was sorry for scaring him off. 

It was a delicate process, befriending Komaeda, but she was intent on it.

———

Hinata was another thing. She’d more or less convinced him there was nothing wrong with being her friend, but as far as she could tell, she was his _only_ friend. After a run-in with Hinata while spending some time with Mioda, she’d ended up getting the idea to introduce him to her classmates. And one by one, she’d done so, and they all took incredibly kindly to him.

She hadn’t introduced him to Komaeda yet, though. She was vaguely worried about overwhelming him, with how difficult it was to make herself his friend in the first place, and well...she’d never really heard the extent of his views on talent and the reserve course, but...it wasn't good.

So it was only worse that it happened by accident.

Nanami had been out in the courtyard, sitting on the bench beside Hinata like they always did, going at her handheld with him. He’d let out a frustrated sigh, followed by a sheepish laugh as he admitted defeat, yet again. 

Then there had been footsteps, and Komaeda entered the fountain area.

“Oh! Nanami-san,” he said, eyes locked on her in surprise. Then he’d drifted over to the boy sitting beside her, and his expression of genuine astonishment melted into something more...sour. He’d taken note of his uniform, and Hinata seemed to shift uneasily under his gaze. “Ah, I don’t recognize your friend?”

“This is Hinata-kun,” she said, nodding her head toward him, and Hinata waved awkwardly. “He’s my friend, and he’s from the reserve course,” she held up her console. “And he likes playing games!”

“Oh,” Komaeda said simply, his expression frustratingly unreadable. He stared at Hinata, vacant of any emotion, which was almost intimidating on Komaeda. “I knew reserve courses were leeches, but I didn’t imagine they’d go so far as to try and befriend Ultimates, people clearly above their station.”

“—What?” Hinata choked out, nonplussed by the sudden insult thrown his way, and his voice cracking in an almost pathetic way.

Nanami felt all the progress she’d made between the two of them for the past school year crumble apart. She didn’t imagine it could go this badly, _this_ quickly.

“Hey,” Nanami pouted. “That’s—that’s mean. You shouldn’t say that. Hinata-kun’s not a leech, no one is…”

“But, Nanami-san, they come to this school for one purpose: because they want to be what they cannot. They use the prestige of the academy and the Ultimates to make themselves seem more important than they are,” he said, and his brows furrowed in a soft glare he aimed at Hinata. “It’s pathetic.”

“What the hell?” Hinata blurted out. “Seriously, what’s your problem? I don’t even know you! You don’t know shit about me, either!”

“But I know all ordinary people are the same. You should give up on trying to be something you aren’t. Talent is innate, and if you aren’t born with it, you should just accept your place. It’s useless to cry over being ordinary.”

Hinata’s jaw clenched, and Nanami saw his grip tighten on her console. “You know what?” He made a noise of frustration in his throat, and shoved the console toward her. “I’m not dealing with this,” he proclaimed, and stood up.

“Hinata-kun, wait—” Nanami called, but it was too late, and he stomped off.

Komaeda watched him walk, apparently not understanding what made him so angry. Nanami immediately turned to him and gave him the most disappointed frown she ever had.

“Komaeda-kun,” she started. “You can’t say that to him. It’s...not nice. You made him really sad.”

“Why?” Komaeda asked. “I stated the truth. He should accept his place. It’s useless to expect he will suddenly gain a talent. Why cry over something you can’t change?”

“Hinata-kun is really...sensitive about his lack of talent,” she said, frowning down at the console he’d shoved into her hands. She thumbed the power button, and started to pack both of them into her backpack. “So, um. You really shouldn’t say things like that to him. Even if you don’t think it’s mean, most people would take it that way…”

Komaeda shook his head, and sighed audibly. “I don’t understand,” he folded his arms over his chest. “He should be happy. Most ordinary, boring people are happy in their place. People who try to be among those that are far above them, are just setting themselves up for pain.”

Nanami frowned. She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just silently zipped up her bag.

“Ah. I need to go, sorry, Nanami-san,” he said, glancing down at his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“...Okay,” she said. “Goodbye, Komaeda-kun.” She waved at him as he left, before slinging her bag over his shoulders and heading toward the dorms.

As she walked, she thought about Komaeda’s words, and something stuck out to her. His choices of words specifically. And she figured, there might be a way to go about fixing this. The last thing she wanted was for her friends to hate each other.

———

“Hinata-kun.”

Hinata let out a startled shout, throwing his arms up in the air as a jolt through his body and made his spine go tense, unceremoniously shouting “ _Fuck_!” and turning around quickly. His gaze casted down, meeting a pair of wide, pink eyes staring up at him.

“Oh. Nanami,” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed. “I seriously didn’t hear you. You...probably don’t sneak up on me like that?”

Nanami tilted her head. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Uh, did you want something?”

“Yea,” she said, and only now did he notice she was holding three cups of boba. She held one out to him, the other two tucked against her side. “Orange creamsicle. That’s your favorite.”

Hinata took it. “Yea, it is,” he said, taking the wide straw from her, and carefully stabbing it into the cup. He was thankful he didn’t explode any onto himself, and brought it up to his lips to sip. “Thanks.” 

She rearranged the other two, so she was holding one in her dominant hand, pink in color, and she sipped it. Strawberry milk, he guessed, already knowing that was her favorite flavor. His eyes locked onto the final cup, though, which was a strong green color that faded into white.

“Who’s that for?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at it. “Someone. Follow me.”

“Uh?”

She didn’t give him time to keep questioning, turning on her heel and starting on a leisurely pace down to the other end of the courtyard, toward the main course dormitories. He followed, however reluctantly, sipping his drink as he did.

That’s when Hinata saw _him_.

It was hard not to. He stood out pretty starkly, white skin, white hair, and pale green eyes, with his tall, lithe figure hidden beneath that stupid brown uniform that Hinata envied more than anything.

He was hoping Nanami wasn’t heading toward him. But since nothing ever goes his way, she walked straight in his direction, and even called out his fucking _name_.

“Komaeda-kun,” she waved her arm with his drink in the air. “I got you some boba.”

Komaeda had been sitting on one of the benches near the dormitories, a book cupped gently in his hands. Her voice startled him, and he picked his head up at the sound of his name, eyes widening. “Oh!” he gasped, and delicately took the drink from her. Hinata had lagged behind, frozen in place as he stared at the exchange, watching Komaeda point his finger at the cup in question, and Nanami mumble something in return.

He considered leaving. Walking right the fuck off, and going to his dorm, and maybe screaming a bit. But he stood there. Angrily sipping his drink, and glaring at the stupid, white-haired boy in the stupid, main course uniform. He balled his fist at his side, clenched so tightly that his knuckles went white, but he didn’t say anything. 

Then Komaeda’s stupid, pale green eyes flicked over and met his, and he felt his spine go rigid. The boy’s expression of delight fell, again to that vacant, expressionless stare he gave Hinata before. He wanted to wipe it off of him, but more than that, he wanted to just walk away again.

“Oh,” Komaeda said. Hinata didn’t hear it that well, still standing too far away, but he saw his lips form the word. 

Nanami cut through his words before he could say something unsavory. She turned to Hinata, and ran over to him, grabbing his wrist. “Come on, don’t just stand there,” she said, and dragged an unwilling Hinata over to where Komaeda was sitting, like a stubborn dog by its leash.

“You guys got off on the wrong foot,” Nanami said simply, seemingly unaware of the tension making the air unbreathable. Hinata had to take a deep breath in the thick of it.

“No kidding,” Hinata scoffed, which made Komaeda frown and look away, at nothing in particular while he sipped his drink.

“...” Nanami pouted. “You guys need to be nice. And introduce yourselves the right way this time.”

She turned her head toward Hinata, and gave him a pleading look. He opened his mouth to _immediately_ protest the idea of having to play even slightly nice with that white-haired, asshole of a main course student, but her expression made him falter. So, with a groan, he sighed.

“Uh,” he stepped in front of Komaeda’s view. His head immediately turned elsewhere, avoiding his gaze. “Hey, come on, don’t _avoid me_ ,” he huffed. “It’s rude.”

“You shouldn’t be on this section of campus,” Komaeda said, and brought his eyes up, narrow and pointed at Hinata. “I could call campus security.”

“You’re not going to do that,” Hinata scoffed.

“And why wouldn’t I?”

Wordlessly, Hinata gestured toward Nanami, who was standing beside them still, silently watching. Komaeda followed his gesture, and opened his mouth to protest, but with the look she gave him, he shut up.

“What do you want?” he demanded instead, and the vaguely unfriendly tone of his voice made Hinata want to give up on this shit and walk off. He braved it with an exasperated sigh, and stuck his free hand out.

“I’m Hinata Hajime,” he said. 

Komaeda stared at his hand blankly far too long, that Hinata just about dropped it to his side and gave up on the whole handshake thing, before he fit his _incredibly pale_ , and also _incredibly soft_ hand in his, with a gentle grip, and shook it.

“Komaeda Nagito.”

And he withdrew his hand immediately.

“Is that it? You wanted to give your name to yet another Ultimate, to feel more significant?”

“Komaeda-kun—”

“Can you _cut that shit out_ ?” Hinata immediately barked. “I’m trying to be fucking nice to you, all for Nanami’s sake, and you’re _still_ being an asshole? All you know is my name, and that I’m in the reserve course, and you think you get to judge me? Seriously?”

Komaeda’s lips snapped shut, pursed tightly. He didn’t say anything, and looked away again.

Hinata laughed, but it was anything but amused. “Okay. You’re just going to go quiet and avoid me again. Really mature. I guess there’s even shitty Ultimates,” he said, and placed a foot out, ready to turn and leave.

“You don’t know _anything_ about Ultimates,” Komaeda suddenly interjected, making Hinata stop in his tracks and curse beneath his breath. _Almost got out of it._ “You know nothing about talent. About any of this. But you seek it out. Why?”

Well, that was the most engaging he’d been with Hinata thus far.

“ _Why_? Why does it matter to you?” 

“...I don’t care if you don’t answer,” Komaeda claimed, but his voice softened, and something told Hinata he _did_ care. At least a little bit. “I can fill in the blanks myself if you really want.”

“No,” Hinata blurted out. “No, whatever. I admire Hope’s Peak, most people do. That should be obvious. I always have, and I’ve always wanted a talent but…” Why the fuck was he even telling this guy this? He gave an uneasy glance to Nanami, who was sipping her drink and looking at him with wide, eager eyes. She nodded quickly, encouraging him forth. “Uh. I never found one. Obviously. So I thought...maybe...if I came to Hope’s Peak…” he held a hand up, staring at his palm. “Maybe I could _become_ something, and…” he sighed, running that hand through his hair and shutting his eyes. “...be proud of myself. Or something.”

Komaeda regarded him with a glance, and once again, his expression was unreadable. Hinata hated that he couldn't tell what the boy was thinking, what he was going to say.

“So,” he started, and Hinata felt himself tense up immediately at the tone in his voice, sharply inhaling. “You’re selfish.”

“Wh-”

“You only think about yourself. You’re using others to make yourself seem worth something, when you should just be happy where you are.”

_What?_ Hinata felt like he’d been socked in the gut.

“You are ordinary. Boring. Talentless. You are not _fit_ to be a symbol of Hope, and you are not fit to be among them like you are,” Komaeda abruptly stood up, and Hinata was suddenly very aware of the inch or two of height the boy had on him. _Symbols of Hope? What?_ “All you are good for is living your boring, ordinary lives, among other boring, ordinary people, and falling in line as a stepping stone for _our sakes_ —”

Nanami looked ready to intervene. Hinata wasn’t having it.

“Shut _up!_ ” He shouted, and clutched his drink so tightly some of it spilled out of the top and onto his hand. He didn’t have the presence of mind to care. “I don’t need you to fucking tell me that! I get it already! I get all of that, I’ve known it forever! I’m fucking garbage at everything I do. It’s all _mediocre_ ,” he screamed. “Everything about me is fucking _mediocre_ . Do you know what it’s like? Do you? To...to try every fucking club in school, and find out that you’re just average, _every time_. To pick up hobby after hobby, try out different sports, instruments, all of it, and no matter how long you practice you just. Have nothing going for you. It’s always...mediocre.”

Komaeda was staring, his expression vacant still, but growing slightly distressed the longer Hinata yelled at him. He didn’t say anything in response, because there was nothing he really could say, so silence loomed over them for a half-minute before Hinata interrupted it with a broken laugh. He had his answer.

“Of course you don’t. Because you’re an Ultimate,” he muttered. “You’re good at something. I’m not, and never will be.”

By now, Hinata realized he had bubble tea dripping down his hand, and he was angry, and suddenly really tired. So, when Komaeda opened his mouth to say something, he just threw a hand up dismissively, and silently walked off toward the reserve dormitories, not even offering a goodbye to either of them.

They would never understand each other. He didn’t even learn Komaeda’s talent, but he knew he had one, whatever it was.

It probably didn’t matter.

———

Shortly after Hinata had left their view, Nanami tried to turn to Komaeda and tried to speak, but a crackly, unsettling laugh bubbled up his throat and he gripped his drink with a trembling, tight grip. It made Nanami go tense, a frown on her lips.

“Thank you for the drink, Nanami-san,” he whispered, and abruptly spun on his heel, heading straight into the main building, to the dorms. 

Hinata’s words wore on him, despite every attempt to brush them off. It frustrated him deeply. Hinata wanted talent so badly, for what? He envied Komaeda’s talent, for what? He didn’t even know what his talent _was_ , and yet he had a sneaking suspicion that the reserve course boy was so selfish that even if he knew how horrible, how useless, how _painful_ Komaeda’s talent was, he would want it. Just so he could feel like he was worth something.

To suggest Komaeda didn’t understand that feeling...just thinking about it made Komaeda laugh again, raspy and broken in his throat, his entire frame shaking with the weight of his pathetic laughter. 

He understood that feeling. Entirely.

To want to be more than you are, to yearn for a place high above your own, despite knowing you would never get it. He had felt like that for years. He was talentless, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Luck was never a talent to him, not until Hope’s Peak had coveted it. It was less conventional, and had done nothing for him previously. Nothing. As much as he could bask in the rainbows after the ravaging hurricanes, a rainbow didn’t repair broken houses, didn’t restore lost lives, and didn’t clean up the mess the hurricane had left.

It never did. Not even a little. It just slapped an empty wish of "get well soon" on top and left him to pick up the pieces on his own.

Because, while Komaeda had always wished to be talented, to be the very figureheads he admired, to have a _purpose_ ...when Luck was the talent he realized he was given, he had never in his life wished he could be plain, ordinary, and _boring_ more. As much as it pained him to admit.

Hinata didn’t understand how good he had it. To have nothing to worry about, other than ordinary, boring things; to not live in a constant spotlight, and to not live under the mark of misfortune he never even _asked for_.

And yet he _envied_ Komaeda. And Komaeda envied him right back.

———

Nanami took a seat on the bench, holding her boba with both hands and drawing her knees in close and tense. Her foot bounced, tapping incessantly at the paved pathway as she went over what just happened.

It...didn’t go well. She thought making them talk would work, but it didn’t. At the very least, she had been right about Komaeda; his malice wasn’t coming from a place of superiority. The opposite, in fact.

As her tea depleted, the sucking noise she was making on the straw got pretty obnoxious, but she still sat there until every last drop, and every last pearl was gone.

Then she got up, and went to her dorm to think about what to do next.

This final boss was just really, really tough. And really, really long. That’s okay. She’d beat Sans in _Undertale_ first try. She could do this, maybe.

———

Hinata never wanted to see Komaeda ever again, _ever_. It’s not like he was allowed onto the main course campus anyways, but he definitely wasn’t going on it now. Even if Nanami brought him there, he would refuse. If there was even the slightest chance he could run into Komaeda, he didn’t want to deal with it.

Komaeda probably felt the same.

Why was he even thinking about what _Komaeda_ felt? Despite how angry he made him, he was thinking about him. A lot. His words had been seared into his brain. A confirmation of all his feelings, of everything he pretended to forget about, because he just wanted to be something more. So badly.

He really needed to stop thinking about Komaeda. It was making his brain a mess; the homework he’d turned in this past week was all poorly graded, compared to his normal grades. At the very least, he had that he was mostly a straight A student going for him. Mostly. He still got plenty of B’s, but he was pretty good at school.

Maybe he could be the Ultimate Student, or something.

_...That sounds so stupid, Hajime._

With a heavy sigh, he lugged himself toward the hedges in the courtyard. He was supposed to meet with Nanami today, but he wasn’t really sure he had the energy today. He should probably study, before he gets so far behind that he flunks out. The last thing he needs to do is be a failure at the easiest fucking thing to _not_ fail: school.

The final exams were coming up, too. It was probably best that he didn’t get distracted.

Stressing himself out with all the studying he knew he had to do, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and ran into something.

“Ah!”

Someone.

“Shit, sorry—” he stumbled back a step, away from the person he’d just slammed his shoulder into, and looked up an inch or two, and saw.

White hair. Skin.

Stupid, pale green eyes.

“...Of _course_.”

Komaeda took a second to gather himself, having dropped the book he was holding. It clattered on the floor, and he scooped it up, running an irritated hand through his hair when he realized who had knocked into him. “You should watch where you’re going,” the soft, yet venomous voice spat at him.

“You also walked into me, you know. I think we’re both at fault here.”

“As if,” Komaeda _hmph_ ed, smoothing some wrinkles from his _brown_ , fucking _brown_ uniform jacket, and gently holding his book in palm. “You just want to pin your failings on an Ultimate. Since you already burden so much of your self-worth on us.”

Hinata sighed. Loudly. He didn’t know if Komaeda physically reacted to it, because he had to shut his eyes tightly, press two fingers to his temple and _breathe_ , before he seriously lost it again.

“...I’m not arguing with you about this,” Hinata started, speaking slowly, on the very edge of losing his patience already. “But I don’t want to hate you. For Nanami’s sake. So. Can we just...not do this? I’ll apologize for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.”

Komaeda frowned at him. But he didn’t say anything. Hinata didn’t want to go back into silent staring, so he pressed forward anyways.

“...So. Sorry. For yelling at you. You just, really pissed me off. Because I don’t need to hear the things I already tell myself, from someone else.”

After a beat or two, Komaeda spoke up, his voice considerably less hostile.

“Why did it upset you? I...don't understand,” he said, and Hinata heard sincerity in his voice. “When I told you should accept your place, I mean.” 

“Well, to be fair, you did kinda layer a bunch of insults with it,” Hinata grumbled. “But. I told you. I...admire Hope’s Peak. I wanted a talent, and it...makes me feel like garbage, that I don’t have one, honestly. Because, without one...everything I do is just painfully mediocre. I’m not particularly good at anything, no matter how much I practice, it’s like...impossible for me. And it just. Hurts to be reminded of that.”

“Hurts,” Komaeda repeated the word back to him slowly, and frowned. “I don’t understand. I’ve accepted my place so easily. Why do you still struggle against a world that will never favor you? When it only hurts you?”

“Accepted your place? What, as an Ultimate? How would _that_ be hard to accept?” Hinata scoffed.

“Well, yes,” Komaeda said. “And no.”

Hinata didn’t know what the hell that answer meant.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Oh, are you suddenly interested in me, rather than making assumptions and storming off?”

“You’ve made a lot of assumptions too, you know. Don’t be an asshole.”

Komaeda huffed, and folded his arms over his chest, clutching his book squarely against it, and his eyes wandered for a beat or two, trying to piece together what he wanted to say, and how.

“I’m nothing like the other Ultimates,” he began, staring at a hedge bush for no particular reason. “I’m lucky, that’s all there is to me.”

Hinata’s brows raised. “The lottery?” he asked, and Komaeda nodded.

“I wanted to be something more, but when I won…” he gestured vaguely, waving his hand in the air. “I couldn’t accept it. I denied, but Hope’s Peak insisted. They were interested in my luck.”

Hinata didn’t know what to make of that. This guy, the one who had been treating him like dirt beneath his shoes, was just almost as ordinary as him? It made him want to laugh, in the least amused manner.

“My luck is a worthless talent. Being the Ultimate Lucky Student is not worth much,” Komaeda’s sentence broke with a laugh, soft and _sad_ , almost. “I’m a lowly Ultimate. So I’ve accepted my place as beneath them all. As nothing but something to be stepped upon, used for their betterment.”

Hinata furrowed his brows at that, slightly irritated by how Komaeda spoke about himself, about others like him. Like Hinata. 

“I...does that really matter?” Hinata asked. “Seriously. Does it? I mean…” Hinata had no place to speak on this, given he devalued himself on the daily for the same reason, yet he kept going. Nanami didn’t give him all those pep talks for nothing, he reasoned. “You and I. We’re not worthless just because we don’t have real talent.”

“I implore you to think otherwise, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda scoffed and shook his head, and Hinata found himself caught up in how his wispy hair moved, for just a mere moment. “I really, truly am worthless.”

“So you think I’m worthless, too?”

Komaeda opened his mouth, as if he knew his answer immediately, and nothing came out. He stood there silently, and snapped his lips shut. Hinata gave him a look of urgency, throwing his hands up.

“...No.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“Ordinary people are not worthless. They at least have worth in that they can be stepping stones, and as well,” he paused, tapping his foot. “Being among other ordinary people. You have people to surround yourself with, people who you can care about. The only person who can empathize with ordinary people, is an ordinary person.”

“That’s weird,” Hinata blurted out, and Komaeda looked at him quizzically, making the boy panic a bit but stumble forward with his words. “I mean. You said you also wanted to be something more. So, don’t you kinda ‘empathize’ with me?”

Komaeda blinked owlishly, and Hinata was frustrated by how blank his stare still was. Hinata cleared his throat awkwardly under the unwavering gaze, feeling judged, and reached up to scratch at his neck as if that would alleviate his suffocating awkwardness.

“And you’re an Ultimate. I’m ‘ordinary’. So, if you empathize with me...” he muttered. “And I guess, I empathize with you… then either, you’re ordinary, I’m an Ultimate, or you’re just wrong. I’m leaning toward the last one.”

Despite his best efforts, silence still shrouded the conversation for a brief minute, before Komaeda whispered something.

Hinata didn’t hear him.

“What was tha—”

“I said,” Komaeda breathed in sharply. “I’m sorry.”

Hinata opened his mouth to respond, but his brain stuttered to a stop and he just stood there, mouth agape. Komaeda’s shoulders visibly tensed after the words left his mouth, and his expression flicked between several different emotions, eyes darting around and looking everywhere but Hinata’s face, before he tapped his foot against the pavement loudly.

“I need to go. Goodbye.”

“Hey, wait—”

Komaeda spun on his heel, and started briskly walking toward the dormitories; Hinata nearly followed him, but stood with his feet planted on the floor, watching him disappear around a corner of the topiary. He was left wondering if he’d done something right there, or if he’d completely fucked it up. He really had no idea, he couldn’t read the lucky student’s mind for the life of him.

He didn’t understand Komaeda one bit.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

———

Nanami poked her head around one of the tall, trimmed bushes, peeking over toward where Hinata and Komaeda were standing. She couldn’t hear them very well, but she tried to listen in anyway, and carefully watched their faces.

At some point, Yukizome had noticed her, and after whispering a quiet “ _ what are we doing? _ ”, she joined in, apparently equally invested in the growing relationship between Komaeda and Hinata.

It would be good for both of them, Nanami thought. They’re opposite, but almost entirely alike. If they got over these hurdles, they would understand each other better, and in that same vein, understand a lot of things better. They both had similar worldviews, and Nanami didn’t like either of them; if they butt heads like this, it might help them both open their eyes past it.

When Komaeda turned and walked off, she hid behind the bushes fully, and waited for Yukizome to walk off before she incidentally ‘ran into’ Hinata to play games, like they planned.

Maybe her strategy wasn’t a failure. It was kinda like the hard route, instead of the easy one, but Nanami didn’t think there was an easy route for this. So she’d just have to make do.


End file.
